


Ink On the Page

by Magnetism_bind



Series: June Ficlets [1]
Category: Professor Marston and the Wonder Women (2017)
Genre: Diary/Journal, F/F, Falling In Love, Feelings, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Light Bondage, Lust, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Romance, background William Marston, extremely light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 14:45:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19111837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: "At the moment I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later and thus we don't have complete emotions about the present, only about the past.”  - Virginia Woolf: Volume 3.





	Ink On the Page

**Author's Note:**

> My goal is to write a series of f/f ficlets for varying fandoms for Pride Month. This is the first. :)

 

"What's that?"

Olive looks up from her journal, startled to see the topic of her current entry looking over at her curiously. "Oh, nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing." Elizabeth drawls over her cigarette. "Come on. Is it a journal?"

Olive half covers the page with her palm, and then immediately removes it, afraid the ink will smudge. “Just a diary really." She liked to think of it as a journal, but her thoughts were so small at times, so intimately private, that they didn't feel like they were worthy of a journal. Certainly there was nothing here that she wanted to share with the world at large.

"If it's a journal, it's a journal." Elizabeth says impatiently. "They're your thoughts after all. They matter."

"To whom?" Olive says lightly. She blows lightly on the page, willing the ink not to smudge. 

When she looks back up Elizabeth's gaze still rests upon her. Unbidden, a light flush rises in Olive's cheeks. It happens more and more of late. Whenever she looks at Elizabeth, whenever Elizabeth looks at her. It feels as though she were constantly aflame at a single glance.

It was that particular aspect of being around Elizabeth that she had been writing of just then in fact when Elizabeth had spoken. Olive dares a glance at the page.  _I feel like a candle and one look from her eyes, even the briefest glance, the slightest hint of a smile from her mouth, is enough to set me alight. Oh, if I were a candle, I would burn for her all night._

Her blush deepens and she prays that Elizabeth doesn't ask to see the diary in question.

"To whom?" Elizabeth repeats, puzzled. "To you of course. And to me." She adds after a moment.

"To you?" Olive blurts out.

"Yes, of course." Elizabeth looks down at her book again. "You wouldn't be here, assisting my husband and myself if your thoughts weren't important to us." Her gaze remains on the page, so this time she doesn't see the smile setting Olive's face aflame with pleasure.

 

 *  *  *

 

That night Elizabeth sits in the window seat in her bedroom, her journal balanced on her knees, listening to the rain falling outside the cottage. She'd started writing up a list of things she needed to finish working on, but then, as it had more often of late, her pen had turned to thoughts of Olive. 

 _She thinks she doesn't matter, or rather she's been told she doesn't matter. She must know how much she matters._   _To William, to me._ She pauses, tapping the pencil against her lips. It's an understatement, but she doesn't have the words for what Olive means. Not yet. She simply knows that her days have been brighter ever since Olive came to them, and she doesn't want to lose that. She hadn't expected it in the slightest when Olive started taking the class. She hadn't expected Olive at all.

"Are you going to write all night?" William murmurs sleepily.

"Nearly done." Elizabeth answers absently. Still, she lingers a little while longer, listening to the quiet pattern of the rain.

 

 *  *  *

 

_A year later_

One afternoon when Olive is looking through a drawer for a silken scarf, the better to tie Elizabeth’s hands with, a slim notebook falls from the bookshelf overhead. She reaches for it absently, to put it back on the shelf when the notebook falls open.

 

_June 2_

_She drives me wild. It’s almost infuriating that she can have this effect on me. Were I a poet, I would say I had seen a sort of heaven in her eyes, but I am not, nor ever hope to be. I can only look at her and hunger for that perfect mouth on mine._

_How on earth can she sit there and listen and pay attention to W while I am quietly being driven mad with desire? There is no fairness in the world at all._

 

This is Elizabeth’s handwriting. These are her words. Her fingers that caressed this page as she wrote it. Olive stares at it in wonder.

“What the devil is taking you so long?” Elizabeth calls from the bedroom. “My nipples are getting quite cold.”

Olive stifles a giggle. She replaces the book carefully on the shelf, letting her fingers stroke the spine for a second before returning to the bedroom.

She pauses a moment in the doorway to admire the sight of Elizabeth lounging across the bed, nightgown pulled down to her waist as she thumbs through a paperback, cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth.

Olive clears her throat and Elizabeth looks up. “Well?”

Olive holds up the scarf she found. “Too flimsy?”

Elizabeth sighs. “It’ll have to do. Come on.” She leans over to stub out of her cigarette. Olive follows the sway of her breasts, a surge of love rising up in her throat and belly. There are moments she thinks she will die of love, and others she’s certain this is the reason she has ever lived at all. To touch and kiss and fuck a woman such as this.  

She crosses the room to sit beside Elizabeth on the bed. “Give me your wrists.”

Elizabeth does, her lips curved in a private smile as she does.

Olive winds the scarf round her wrists and ties them. “Now,” She says, “Close your eyes.”

She waits till Elizabeth’s eyes are firmly shut before lowering her mouth to Elizabeth’s breast. She will leave a mark here that will linger, a private declaration of love that makes Elizabeth smile when she undresses at night. But for now the only sound in the room is a quiet sigh of pleasure as they move together on the bed, skin to skin and mouth to mouth.


End file.
